


The Black Goat's Egg

by angrytourist



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Gender Issues, Genital Mutilation, Graphic description of torture, M/M, Mpreg, body transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-17 18:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2319338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrytourist/pseuds/angrytourist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He grew back <i>wrong</i>. Rize was inside him, twisting him, remaking his body in her image.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks goes to Cthonical for listening to me ramble about this and sugoikaneki for being my spell-check.
> 
> I'm open to tagging other things, so let me know if you think I need to something.

Tsukiyama was a bleeder. The makeshift training room they'd fashioned out of the basement was proof of it, the floors stained with old blood and slick with new.

"You've gotten so good, Kaneki-kun," Tsukiyama panted, one hand pressed to the wall in an effort to hold himself up.

"I'm not good enough yet." Kaneki flexed his hands and squeezed them into fists. "Can you go again?"

"I'd have to eat first," Tsukiyama said, "unless you're actually planning to kill me." 

Irritation reared its ugly head. It wasn't unreasonable that Tsukiyama needed time to heal, but it chafed at the part of Kaneki that held his unquenchable thirst for more power, better speed, the perfect reflexes. "Go on. I'll be up in a while."

Tsukiyama didn't leave. Instead he pushed off the wall and approached Kaneki, who watched his slight limp with a vague amusement. 

"You've been so tense lately."

What a load of shit. "I can't imagine why."

Tsukiyama sidled up close and stretched his arm across Kaneki's shoulders. The way his fingers twitched where they fell betrayed his false confidence. Kaneki hated to let him down so he swatted Tsukiyama's hand away "Don't do anything unnecessary," he warned.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Tsukiyama said, though the hand resting possessively on Kaneki's waist said otherwise.

Kaneki had been too lenient with Tsukiyama in the month since they'd begun traveling together, had made one too many allowances. That was the only reason Kaneki could come up with as to why Tsukiyama felt he could lean in and kiss him, could slide his hand from his waist to his stomach and down--

Tsukiyama wheezed when Kaneki's knee connected with his stomach. He buckled, sinking to his knees with an agonized whimper.

"I let you touch me _once_ ," Kaneki snapped. "Don't expect it again."

He left Tsukiyama on the ground and hurried upstairs.

The house was a one level with two bedrooms, and Kaneki hadn't asked questions when Tsukiyama provided it. "As a courtesy," he'd said. He'd given Kaneki the grand tour alone and made an especially big deal about the basement. They'd sparred at Tsukiyama's urging to, as he'd put it, test the structural integrity.

Kaneki beat him into the ground before losing control.

He could still remember fading in and out of awareness, Tsukiyama's body tearing under his hands. Tsukiyama brought him back, though he'd never explained how.

They kissed. Kaneki still didn't understand why.

"Nii-chan?" Hinami popped her head out of the kitchen as Kaneki closed the door. "Are you hungry? I tried out one of Mr. Tsukiyama's recipes!" She smiled brightly, her voice humming with excitement.

"I should shower first," Kaneki said. "Give me ten minutes?"

The bathroom was tiny, the toilet and shower cramped close together without much remaining floor place. The lack of a tub initially bothered Kaneki, but the allure of a long soak no longer appealed to him.

He turned on the shower as hot as he could bear and waited for the mirror to steam before undressing.

Kaneki folded his clothes on the back of the toilet mechanically. He caught himself counting backward, muttering to himself like a madman, and bit his lip to suppress the habit. 

The water burned pleasantly. Kaneki stood under the flow with his eyes closed for some time, letting his thoughts drift.

A knock sounded on the door. "Nii-chan?" Hinami called out. "You've been in there almost an hour... Are you all right?"

That long? Kaneki frowned as he realized the water was running cold, his skin numb. "Sorry, Hinami," he said, "I'll be out in a minute." 

He'd lost himself again. Kaneki shook his head and grabbed the soap. Now that he was aware of it, the cool water felt terrible. He had to force himself not to cringe away from it as he washed his body.

Kaneki ran his hand down his chest and stomach, a little lower. Then he stopped.

His hands trembled from both cold and unease. Kaneki gave up and tossed the soap to the side, washing it off as quickly as he could manage before stumbling out of the shower. 

The cold had long since stripped the mirror of its steam, so Kaneki was greeted with a full view of his body, unflinchingly unobscured. His gaze dropped against his will to his groin, and for a moment, the sensation that he was staring at a naked stranger burned at him, shameful. But equally painful was the cutting realization that the body in the mirror was his own, disfigured and hideous, torn between ghoul and human, male and female.

Jason had humiliated and tormented him in every way possible, severing parts of him at random, delighting in his suffering. As much of a blur as Kaneki's time in that room was, he could remember the moment Jason mutilated his genitals with startling clarity, how clinical he'd been and how widely Jason had grinned when he forced Kaneki to eat himself.

But more terrible still was the way Jason had inspected him later, holding his legs apart and saying, "Should I start calling you Rize now?" with a laugh.

He grew back _wrong_. Rize was inside him, twisting him, remaking his body in her image.

Kaneki backed against the door and slid down to the floor, shivering. 

xxx

Kaneki didn't leave the bathroom until the light streaming in under the door fell dark and all noise ceased.

Hinami had pleaded with him to come out, but Kaneki couldn't bring himself to move. He wanted to sit on the floor forever, to cease to exist. 

He wanted to stand up and see dark hair and a soft body that had never known true violence in the mirror.

But Kaneki knew better than to expect a miracle, or even to believe in them to begin with. Wrapping the towel firmly around his waist, Kaneki climbed to his feet and opened the door.

Banjou was asleep on the couch. The television was in mute, casting a dim glow over the living room. When Kaneki closed the bathroom door, Banjou stirred, let out and a rumbling snore, and fell silent again.

Kaneki didn't want to eat, but the lingering scent if Hinami's cooking stirred his appetite He walked reluctantly into the kitchen and saw a piece of paper taped to the microwave.

_Saved you some!_ the note read in Hinami's shaky handwriting, a smiley face at the bottom. Guilt weighed down the corners of Kaneki's lips. He was supposed to be taking care of her, not the other way around.

The food was delicious in spite of his mood. Hinami had prepared the meat in such a way that it was like biting into a delicious steak. Kaneki wondered if cooking Tsukiyama's way made her feel human.

He left the dishes in the sink, quiet so as not to disturb anyone, and crept down the hall to his room.

The house had only two bedrooms, and while Kaneki and Banjou had agreed that Hinami deserved one of them, they'd been at odds about the remaining. They each insisted the other should have it, and Banjou eventually decided to camp out in the living room to prove he didn't need a room.

He said Kaneki deserved a private place of his own, and it was Banjou's unrelenting earnestness on the matter that finally made Kaneki back down.

Kaneki paused in front of Hinami's door. The light was still on, and he could her moving about and the sound of papers rustling. He wanted to apologize for worrying her, but his fist stopped short of knocking on the door.

Hanging his head, Kaneki went to his own room, sleep the only reprieve offered to him.

xxx

Rize sat between Kaneki's legs, her bare breasts illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window. She smiled at him, looking like the soft faced girl he'd watched at Anteiku for so long, but rather than feeling the familiar slow burn of arousal, Kaneki's body went rigid with terror.

His dick was soft, and she grabbed it, her face a mirror if Jason's: cold, clinical, and judging.

"This won't work," she said - no, _cooed_. She spoke to him like one would a wounded animal. "I can't use this. It doesn't fit here anymore."

She leaned down, close enough that her breath fanned across the length of him, but before he could feel the first inkling of arousal, Rize took him in her mouth and bit his dick clean off.

Kaneki felt the severing as painfully as he had the first time, and there was an echo of Jason in Rize's laugh when she spat him out.

"Don't worry, Kaneki," Rize promised, "I'm going to fix you."

Kaneki woke up to the sound of himself screaming, thrashing with his sheets like Rize was the one clinging to him. 

"Breathe," someone was saying to him - Banjou. He was hovering at Kaneki's bedside, his hands out like he wanted to touch Kaneki but didn't quite dare to.

Kaneki's breathing slowed, his heart's erratic pounding calmed. Hinami stood in the doorway, a hand over her mouth.

"I'm sorry for waking you both," Kaneki said after a few beats. "I--it was just a nightmare." Another pause. "It happens sometimes."

"Don't worry about it," Banjou said, relief smoothing his brow. "Happens to me all the time!"

It didn't. They all knew it didn't, but Banjou wouldn't let Kaneki feel alone. Hinami wouldn't let him suffer by himself.

Kaneki cracked a smile. "Thanks, you guys." He ran a hand over his eyes and rolled out of bed with an exaggerated yawn. "I'm going to the bathroom. You guys should get back to sleep."

"Goodnight, nii-chan," Hinami said as she returned to her room. 

Banjou squeezed Kaneki's shoulder and went ahead of him to the living room.

Kaneki walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. It was just a dream. A horrifying one, but still just a dream. Rize couldn't hurt him. Jason couldn't hurt him. He was strong now, much more than before, and getting stronger everyday.

He'd just go to the bathroom and return to sleep, everything would be fine.

His boxers were stained red at the crotch, and Kaneki flashed back to the dream, his severed cock hanging out of Rize's mouth, to Jason telling him it grow back in no time--

Kaneki dropped to his knees and grabbed his head, hyperventilating. He needed to breathe, to not panic.

"It's not real," he told himself, tears thickening his voice, "I'm seeing things again."

To prove it to himself, he reached between his legs with a trembling hand and swiped a finger through the new crease. It felt warm and moist, and when he drew his hand back his finger was stained red.

As though Rize was hanging over him and watching over his shoulder, Kaneki could still hear the echo of her voice: _I'm going to fix you._

The logical side of him could reason out what was happening. It was the same part of him that deduced his surgery after the accident had turned him into a ghoul.

Somehow, Rize's kakuhou was changing him. Like a parasite, it was forcing its host to change to accommodate it, to adapt to its presence. 

Kaneki's knowledge on menstruation was vague and mostly learned through health class and crude comments made by other boys. He hadn't considered learning about it a priority.

Now that he was aware of the flow he could feel it, warm and sticky and disgusting. He felt dizzy, and his stomach felt strangely tight and unsettled.

That logical side of him, however, was quickly discarded, anger and fear warring to take its place, his own body the enemy. He wanted to rip his skin off, to tear free of the cage of his flesh. The desire to claw into his gut was strong, as though if he dug deep enough, his old self would emerge, whole and undamaged.

Kaneki buried his face in his hands and wept, feeling keenly the absence of his mother.

xxx

Tsukiyama had money to spare and liked to remind everyone at regular intervals that if they kicked him to the curb they’d have no funding for their little vigilante project. Kaneki was especially thankful for that as he pocketed some of their stashed funds from the envelope behind the microwave and headed out the door.

It was close to two in the morning, but the house was close to a corner market. Kaneki put the hood of his jacket up when he walked inside and made a beeline to the feminine products aisle. He was immediately stumped by the ridiculous number of products in pastel boxes, all of them advertising different sizes or materials or shapes. Overwhelmed wasn’t a strong enough word for it, and the abject humiliation he felt standing in the middle of the aisle, thighs squeezed together as if that would stop the blood, made it difficult to breathe. 

The cashier kept giving him suspicious looks, so Kaneki eventually grabbed the least offensive looking box he could find and went to check out.

All hints of suspicion faded from the clerk’s face when he saw what Kaneki put down on the counter. ”Shopping for your girlfriend?” the clerk guessed with a sympathetic smile. 

Kaneki swallowed. He couldn’t meet the clerk’s eyes. If he did, Kaneki was afraid he’d just _know_ , would see just how fucked up and wrong he was. “Yeah,” was all he could force out as he handed over the money.

He turned and left before the clerk could hand him the change.

xxx

Kaneki didn’t sleep again that night. He was awake and reading at the table when Banjou woke up and Hinami came out to start the coffee pot. Kaneki shifted in his chair, his back rigid. The pad felt obtrusive, and he was afraid if he stood up, they’d see. Everyone would find out. Kaneki felt his breath stutter in his lungs at poor little Hinami finding out what a freak he was.

But Hinami didn’t notice that morning, and if she or Banjou suspected anything was different about him, they kept their mouths shut about it. Kaneki’s skin crawled with restless energy, and he only made it to ten in the morning before he gave in and called Tsukiyama over. 

Having someone to kick around would be a relieving distraction, if nothing else.

Tsukiyama always came when Kaneki called. He brought a fancy coffee blend with him this time, and Banjou for once didn’t comment on Tsukiyama’s weird habits, too drawn to the mouthwatering aroma of the coffee beans.

“Shall I grind some for you, Kaneki-kun?” Tsukiyama offered. He was smiling in a less plastic way than usual, grinning up to his eyes. It was a rare occasion that Tsukiyama - or his gifts - received a warm welcome.

“Not right now,” Kaneki said, managing not to snap but only just. “Hurry up. There’s something I want to try.”

There wasn’t really, but Kaneki’s words managed to pique Tsukiyama’s curiosity. He followed Kaneki down the stairs to the basement, his kagune already winding down around his arm in a delicate display of power.

“What’s the plan for today, Kaneki-kun?” Tsukiyama wielded his kagune dramatically, thrusting it forward like a renaissance jouster. “Perhaps you’d like a few tips on precision? Speed?”

Kaneki’s fist caught Tsukiyama by surprise, slamming into his face and sending him crashing across the concrete floor. He barrelled into the wall and landed in a heap, falling still. Then, “You’re in a mood today, I see.”

“Shut up,” Kaneki demanded, already coiled and ready to strike again. “Get back up.”

“You should give me more of an incentive.” Tsukiyama was dangerously close to whining. He climbed to his feet and opened his mouth to speak. Then he frowned. “You smell different.”

Kaneki barely managed to hide his reaction to that. Desperate to keep Tsukiyama from following that thought, Kaneki blurted, “If you land a hit, I’ll kiss you.” He immediately felt gross, but Tsukiyama’s entire face lit up like a dog offered a biscuit.

“ _Très bien_! It’s a deal! Don’t go back on your word, Kaneki-kun.”

Kaneki, though he would rather eat his own tongue, smiled tightly. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

xxx

Sparring could go on for hours. Kaneki’s strength and stamina would allow him to go on for much longer, but Tsukiyama generally called it quits by that point. 

That day, however, they made it only half an hour.

Tsukiyama was at his best, determined, and Kaneki could feel himself slipping. His body felt heavy, and every time he twisted out of the way of an attack, he felt the moisture gathered between his legs, felt the pad drag uncomfortably. He was weak, slow, and it showed.

Kaneki felt the pain before Tsukiyama realized he’d won. The sting of Tsukiyama’s kagune lancing by the side of his face stung even as his body rushed to knit the torn flesh together. Neither of them moved or spoke, the only sound their harsh breathing.

“I hit you,” Tsukiyama said at last, awed.

Kaneki nodded, wordless. He wiped the back of his hand at his face and frowned when it drew away bloody. “Looks like it.”

Tsukiyama took a step forward. “We had a deal,” he reminded. Another step. He approached Kaneki until only inches remained between them.

“Go ahead,” Kaneki allowed, displeased. He shouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place, but he hadn’t had the time to think of an alternative.

“ _Non_ ,” Tsukiyama said, tutting. “Kaneki-kun agreed to kiss _me_.” 

Kaneki bit off a curse. Stupid wording, stupid decision. “Does that really matter?”

“Yes,” Tsukiyama said bluntly.

Of course it mattered to him. Kaneki clenched his jaw. “Fine.” He closed the space between them.

Kissing Tsukiyama wasn’t like he’d expected a kiss to be. He could only vaguely recall their first, but it felt more like something out of a dream. This was different. When Kaneki pushed up onto his toes and pressed his lips to Tsukiyama’s, it didn’t feel special at all. It felt - dry, mostly. Chapped. He could smell sweat and blood as close he was to Tsukiyama, and it occurred to him, frighteningly, that Tsukiyama could do the same.

Kaneki opened his mouth against Tsukiyama’s. _That_ felt different. Tsukiyama groaned and slid his tongue against Kaneki’s, wet and hot and urgent. He took the lead, winding his arms around Kaneki and molding their mouths together, giving Kaneki the distinct sensation of being devoured. That it wasn’t unpleasant was the most shocking part.

Though perhaps pleasant wasn’t the word. Kaneki felt a rush of something that reminded him of when he was still normal, of when he’d think of girls, and heat would gather low in his stomach and pool in his groin. Tsukiyama’s hands on him, one gathered in his hair and the other possessive at the small of his back, were just as pleasurable as the insistent way his tongue moved against Kaneki’s. But rather than the feel of his cock swelling, Kaneki felt the oddest sensation of _wet_ gathering between his legs, of hot pressure at the seam of his body. He suddenly wondered what it would feel like if Tsukiyama’s hand was there instead--

Kaneki’s arousal twisted, and a sick feeling overtook it, turning his stomach. Those parts weren’t _his_ , this body wasn’t right!

He shoved Tsukiyama hard, sending him careening off his feet. Kaneki didn’t stay to ask for another spar. 

Nausea and terror nipping at his heels, Kaneki fled the basement, Rize’s laughter, like the soft tinkling of bells, chasing him all the way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support! And a special thanks to Cthonical who beta'd this in spite of her busy schedule.

Kaneki took more damage than he'd expected. Those girls had looked so much frailer, though they’d been one-eyes like him, as if one push would send them crashing. Maybe that was how people looked at him?

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, he looked to where Hinami was checking Banjou, then glanced to his side where Tsukiyama, looking battered but not too bad off, stood. His face was scrunched unattractively and he held up his hands in surrender.

"Kaneki-kun, if you keep counting like that, you'll disturb the young lady."

Tsukiyama took a few cautious steps forward.

Kaneki took an aggressive step toward him on reflex… and then realized what he was doing.

He was counting backwards, muttering the numbers in a distracted way. Kaneki clenched his jaw.

"I'm fine." Kaneki sounded hoarse and unfamiliar to himself, his throat raw.

"Of course," Tsukiyama soothed.

"Don't patronize me." Kaneki didn't realize how loud he'd been until Tsukiyama took a step back. The hushed conversation between Hinami and Banjou ended abruptly, and Kaneki could feel the weight of their combined stares on his back.

He didn't remember going outside. He remembered showing up at the target’s home and finding nothing but old blood and a useless mess of research, remembered sending Banjou to keep watch and hearing him scream. After was a blur, the memories less _memories_ and more emotions. 

But there they were, the night sky above them and battle-torn grass beneath them. 

Kaneki shook his head, forcing his body to relax. "I let them get away." Fighting them was just as difficult to recall as the rest. Kaneki knew he hadn't been alone, but sometimes he slipped. It was like extreme tunnel vision, and once it ended, his memories were foggy and vague.

" _Non_. They'll keep for another day. More importantly, Kanaki-kun, this was a trap. Knowing that we're being watched is useful in and of itself."

Kaneki didn't want to think about it. He turned around and called out, "How is he?"

"Healing," Hinami said, gently assisting Banjou while he tried to sit up. "But he needs to rest."

"I can make it back," Banjou protested, trying to sit straighter, but he cringed at the sudden movement. Kaneki looked at Banjou's middle and saw the wound had torn open again, fresh blood bubbling out.

"It's too risky to go home tonight. We might be followed," Kaneki said. He looked at Tsukiyama.

"But of course, I would be happy to provide accommodations for the night!" Tsukiyama spread his arms, gesturing grandly. "For my dear friends, and to see Banjoi recover--"

"Just go," Kaneki cut him off. "We'll be nearby, at the underpass by the station. Come for us when you're ready."

xxx

With Hinami's help, Kaneki managed to get Banjou to the underpass without being seen. Though he healed quickly, the wound was deep and reopened several times.

"I've never seen other one-eyed ghouls," Banjou said. "Were they the same?" 

The idea was a bleak one. Was he like them? Did he have the potential to become a monster with a completely blank slate?

No, he was worse: a monster with emotion, with anger and terror and desperation running through his veins. He didn't have the excuse of being empty.

Hinami curled into Kaneki's side. "They weren't like you, nii-chan. They were like… dolls." She was trying to comfort him, Kaneki realized. Her earnestness was painful, a reminder of all the different ways he was failing her.

Kaneki wrapped one arm around Hinami and held her close. "I'll teach you how to fight when we get home," he said.

If he was going to eventually disappoint her, Kaneki figured making sure she could protect herself was the least he could do.

"This isn't your fault," Banjou interrupted. "If it's anyone's, it's mine. My contacts gave us the address." He smiled, bitter. "Guess they were compromised."

"Please, don't say things like that." Hinami looked between the two of them, exasperated. "We're all okay! And Banjou will heal, right? So we should be happy." She sat up straighter suddenly, her mouth forming a silent ‘oh’. "Ah, that's right!" Hinami dug into the zippered pocket of her coat. "I kept the papers from that file."

Kaneki felt his mood lighten. "You're the best, Hinami." The reports they'd found were just another piece of the puzzle, but having them was better than just another blank slate.

Tsukiyama didn't come for them as instructed. He called instead, saying it was a needless waste to come after them. He gave the name of a hotel and two room numbers that he promised would be unlocked, then hung up abruptly.

The hotel was a less than reputable looking one with peeling wallpaper in the hall and chipped paint on most of the doors. The lobby stank of cigarettes, and the rates posted at the front desk ranged from hourly to weekly. Frankly Kaneki was shocked Tsukiyama would be willing to set foot in the building, but it did explain how snippy he'd been over the phone.

Kaneki went in alone and opened a side door for Hinami and Banjou. Of the two rooms, Kaneki let them stay in 1-11, taking care that they had everything they needed before heading to the adjacent room.

Where Tsukiyama was.

Alone.

Kaneki didn't want to share a room with him, but Tsukiyama and Banjou couldn't be trusted together without starting a fight, and he'd never leave Hinami alone with Tsukiyama overnight. Banjou was trustworthy and treated Hinami like a beloved sister. Tsukiyama treated her like an especially cute pet, one he was exceptionally fond of and determined to train in his image.

The door was unlocked, just as Tsukiyama had said it would be. 

"I'm here," Kaneki called out, closing and locking the door behind him.

"No trouble on the way?" Tsukiyama was perched on the edge of the bed - the only bed - with the television remote in hand. He was idly flipping through the channels.

"No," Kaneki said. "And you're sleeping on the floor." He knew a trap when he saw one. 

Tsukiyama put the remote aside and leaned back, resting his weight on his hands. "You'd make me sleep on the floor after all I've done for you?" The look on Tsukiyama's face was less a smile and more a leer. It made Kaneki's cheeks burn even as disgust flashed through him in protest of Tsukiyama's affections.

"You look much better today," Tsukiyama said. 

"I'm fine. I've _been_ fine."

"You've been odd for the last few days," Tsukiyama informed him.

Kaneki put extra effort into projecting hostility, his face blank and his gaze trained on a point beyond Tsukiyama’s shoulder. Kaneki didn't want to talk about the last few days. He'd bled for an agonizing three of them, his stomach twisting painfully, the blood dark and sticky. He'd refused company for fear of the smell and stayed locked in his room save for meals.

Kaneki had pointedly eaten very little despite the sharp increase in his appetite. It resonated too strongly with his memory of Rize's gluttony, and feeling the lightheadedness of hunger when he’d chosen sleep over food in spite of his body felt like victory.

"I'm going to shower," Kaneki said, ignoring Tsukiyama’s concern, if it could even be called that. He paused in the bathroom doorway to add, "Bother me and you're dead."

"You always say things like that…"

Kaneki would have to put his dirty clothes back on, but he needed a reason to be out of the room and away from Tsukiyama. Given the way things had gone between them recently, Kaneki wasn't sure he trusted himself any more than he did Tsukiyama.

The bathroom was small but it was still larger than the one at the house. Kaneki could take more than three steps in any direction and not run into anything. There was also a tub, and in spite of his recent aversion to bathing the promise of a long hot soak was alluring.

Kaneki took one of the hotel towels and hung it over the mirror. He wanted to relax, after all, and the sight of himself would only set his mind on edge again.

xxx

The lights were out in the room when Kaneki finished his bath. He dressed in the bathroom, grimacing at the way his clothes clung to his still slightly damp skin. No amount of drying himself off in the humid bathroom seemed to help, but the alternative was even more disagreeable.

He opened the opened the door slowly and crept to the unoccupied side of the bed. Tsukiyama was under the sheets, and Kaneki saw that at least his upper half was bare. Tsukiyama didn't move until Kaneki was in bed. He rolled over to face Kaneki, one hand slithering to rest on Kaneki's stomach under his shirt.

"Tsukiyama." Kaneki sighed. "What are you doing?"

Kaneki was too tired to deal with Tsukiyama. He wanted to sleep and have it be morning, to get Banjou and Hinami home safely. He didn't want to fend off Tsukiyama's awkward attempts at intimacy. Sure, they were practiced enough to look smooth, but they seemed like something Tsukiyama was trying to mimic, not something he'd done. It reminded Kaneki of guys in high school who used pornography like sex tutorials. According to Hide, that never did work out for anyone.

"I'm merely trying to comfort you," Tsukiyama insisted, but his mouth was entirely too close, the words pressed against the shell of his ear.

"You can comfort me by letting me sleep," Kaneki said, the barest hint of a threat in his voice. 

Tsukiyama's hand remained, his thumb rubbing circles against Kaneki's skin. "Are you sure? You seemed awfully close to losing control."

At that, Kaneki went tense. He rolled over and found himself so close to Tsukiyama that their noses brushed. "I wasn't out of control," Kaneki lied, needing _someone_ to believe in him. "I was just—"

"Out of control," Tsukiyama finished for him, voice soft with pity. "Given your experiences, no one can blame you."

His experiences? What the hell did Tsukiyama know about it? What did _any_ of them know? He'd suffered so much, changed so much - and it wasn't over! Jason was still with Kaneki, Rize and him hiding inside, seeping into every crack and crevice. They wouldn't leave him alone.

"Kaneki-kun—"

Without realizing, Kaneki grabbed Tsukiyama's wrists. Tsukiyama flexed his wrists against Kaneki’s grip, frowning, but he didn't try to escape, not even when the bones cracked and gave under Kaneki's grip.

"I should kill you." Kaneki wanted to. Tsukiyama was in pain, and the way he  
cringed and clenched his jaw yet didn't look away… Tsukiyama obeying him was always an uncomfortable experience. Something about the way Tsukiyama did it, how the look on his face and how tense he’d become always suggested he did it on instinct though not quite voluntarily, set some part of Kaneki he didn't yet understand on fire.

"I can't be your sword if I'm dead." Tsukiyama's voice was strained. Kaneki thought it was pain until Tsukiyama shifted, brushing their bodies together.

Tsukiyama was hard. In spite of the pain or because of it? The possibility of the latter made Kaneki want to squirm for reasons he refused to explore. Enjoying pain would be—

As if sensing his thoughts, Tsukiyama rolled on top of Kaneki and ground down with a slow roll of his hips. Kaneki, caught off guard, squeezed Tsukiyama's wrist harder, the slowly mending bones cracking under pressure, but Tsukiyama was undeterred. He moaned, the sound of it high and reedy, and rode Kaneki's thigh, sliding his own between Kaneki's legs.

The shock of it made Kaneki lose his grip on Tsukiyama's wrist. He didn't have the ability to protest, wasn't sure if he even wanted to as the slow drag of Tsukiyama's thigh rubbed the seam of his shorts insistently against the crease of his body. The intensity stole the breath from his lungs, dragging stuttered whimpers from his mouth with every back and forth motion.

Pressure and heat and a sudden feeling of wet - Kaneki tried to swallow only to choke as heat pooled in stomach, sinking lower.

Tsukiyama stilled above him with a groan. Kaneki felt his cock pulse against his thigh as he came.

He wanted to yell at him, the rising crest of pleasure abruptly replaced by a wet discomfort between his legs, pressure with no place to go.

Tsukiyama rolled off, looking sleepy and sated, but he must have caught the look on Kaneki's face. "Did you not…?"

Kaneki just looked at him, appalled and unable to put his grievance into words.

Tsukiyama rushed to correct his mistake, sliding his hand into Kaneki's shorts. He went still.

 _That's right_ , Kaneki thought numbly as they stared at each other, his own panic rising. _This body is wrong_.

"Kaneki…kun?" Tsukiyama swallowed. "I'd been under the impression—"

Kaneki shoved Tsukiyama away, heard him hit the floor. He threw the covers off and scrambled out of bed, the molten pleasure now an oozing, sick wetness, rot between his legs. "Shut up," Kaneki demanded as Tsukiyama pulled himself back up. "I _am_ a man!"

Tsukiyama didn't say anything, but his gaze dropped between Kaneki's legs.

Kaneki's kagune ripped out of his body, lashing at the air. One arm curled around Tsukiyama's neck and dragged him across the bed, tightening until Tsukiyama was gasping and choking.

"I'm a man," Kaneki said again, calmer. He grabbed Tsukiyama's chin and forced him to look up, the panic in his eyes taking the edge off Kaneki's anger. "Tell anyone about this, and I'll let you live just long enough to regret it."

Tsukiyama nodded frantically. 

Kaneki let him go. He didn't want to be in the room any longer. He couldn't stand the sight of Tsukiyama or the knowledge that he'd let himself get pushed down. That he'd enjoyed it.

Kaneki wasn't sure who he hated more: Tsukiyama or himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for the kudos/comments/bookmarks/reading! And to Cthonical for keeping this fic in line.

Tsukiyama left before the rest of them. He might have even left during the night, but Kaneki had slept fitfully on the floor between Banjou and Hinami's beds and couldn't have cared about Tsukiyama's comings and goings any less.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Hinami fretted over Banjou the entire way home, and the moment they set foot in the house, she went straight to the kitchen. "I'll prepare you something just in case!"

Banjou looked over at Kaneki and shrugged, but the way he smiled at Hinami's mother-henning made it clear he appreciated the attention.

"I'm going to sleep," Kaneki told Banjou, already walking down the hall.

Banjou waved him on, dropping onto the sofa with a relieved sigh.

Kaneki closed the door behind him, and his entire body dropped, weighed down by his obsessive recollection of the previous night.

Clenching his jaw, Kaneki ripped off his clothes and stalked over to the closet. Wearing something clean would undoubtedly feel better but he could hardly count on that to improve his mood.

Tsukiyama _knew_.

It was a terrifying thought. Tsukiyama had felt Kaneki's body well enough to know something was off, though there was no telling what Tsukiyama would do with that information.

What if he told? But no, Kaneki couldn't imagine Tsukiyama outright disobeying him. Then again, Tsukiyama had never been in a position to hold something over Kaneki's head…

Kaneki sat down in the bed, fists clenched against his thighs. The problem wouldn't exist if Kaneki had a single iota of self-control.

Before - before _everything_ \- Kaneki thought his self-control was admirable. He did everything he was supposed to and toed the line. He'd been a good guy, for whatever that was worth.

Now he was just hungry.

It wasn't about his appetite for food, not on its own. Kaneki felt like he'd woken up one morning as a ghoul without inhibitions, the desire for food and power and even the want for something like touch multiplied by one thousand. Kaneki's problem wasn't that he _couldn't_ refuse Tsukiyama when he put his hands on Kaneki. No, it was worse. 

He didn't _want_ to.

Kaneki shuddered, disgusted with himself. He didn't feel right when desire ate at him, like he was taking the backseat to his emotions and watching things play out. His own feelings were like a completely separate entity.

The want that swelled up in him felt tangible, eating him alive from the inside out. If his unnatural desires were something else, the ease with which Kaneki could imagine it was frightening: Rize existing inside him, growing bigger and stronger as Kaneki's humanity shrank, eating at him until she was the only one left. She would wear his skin and continue on without him.

Kaneki wondered if anyone would notice he was gone.

xxx

Kaneki slept for a good few hours, a deep and dreamless sleep that he hadn't known he was capable of anymore. When he finally woke it was late in the day. He could hear the television playing one of the daytime dramas both Hinata and Banjou liked. 

Staring at the cracked ceiling, Kaneki began seriously debating whether or not to go back to sleep. After resting so well, he should have felt better, if only physically.

Instead, he felt frustrated.

It was only a skin deep irritation, mild and persistent, but the feeling set Kaneki on edge. If he left his room, he'd probably lash out someone who didn't deserve it. If Tsukiyama was there, despite being a person who very much deserved to be stepped on, Kaneki suspected he'd get physical with Tsukiyama in a much different way.

Kaneki rolled over and squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck."

If he'd been like before, Kaneki would have jerked off. It was his go to method when he was tense without an outlet. He'd been normal in that respect. 

Hesitant, Kaneki squeezed his thighs together and felt a pleasant pressure.

It was his body, wrong or not, and despite the immediate rush of shame at just thinking of touching himself, there was no real reason not to…

Kaneki rolled onto his back again. It wasn't a good idea. If it felt good, he'd just hate himself more. He felt gross just considering it.

But if he was already gross, it wasn't like he could make himself worse.

Kaneki slipped his hand under the waistband of his boxers.

He gently touched the crease between his legs, taking a moment to work up his nerve before pushing a finger inside - or trying to. Between how dry he felt and how tense his body was, all that first curious attempt did was hurt.

Kaneki pulled his hand away and flopped his head back against his pillow. "Maybe this is a bad idea," he muttered.

But no. He was _committed_ now. 

Steeling himself with a deep breath, Kaneki tried to relax, sliding his hand down his stomach, further still, fingers raking over the sparse hair beneath his belly button. He could do it. He just needed to be in the right mood.

Closing his eyes, Kaneki let his mind drift to attractive strangers, the AVs he and Hide used to watch, soft curves and harder bodies… When the tell-tale curl of heat spiralled behind his navel, Kaneki slid a finger across the slightly damp folds before dipping it inside.

xxx

Half a fucking hour.

Kaneki wasted thirty minutes of his life probing around his nethers and all it got him was worked up, angry, and confused.

He'd tried just fucking himself on his finger, but he never felt wet enough or loose enough. Kaneki stopped just short of feeling like he was giving his cunt friction burn.

He kicked the sheets away and pulled on a pair of pants, just barely managing to keep himself from slamming his door open, and stomping to the bathroom.

He managed to look not half out of his mind when he walked into the bathroom. Kaneki washed his hands, scrubbing furiously to get the very distinct smell off his skin.

The pressure between his legs remained, but there was nothing pleasant about the aching heaviness. It made him want to put a hole or five through the wall.

But that would just make Hinami worry. Kaneki didn't want to put any of his problems on her or on Banjou. He just--he needed an outlet. He needed something he could hit.

Kaneki opened the bathroom door. "Banjou?" he said. "Call Tsukiyama over for me?"

If Kaneki had to suffer, there was no reason he had to do it alone when another bottomfeeder was so close by.

xxx

Predictably, Tsukiyama came when called. He arrived so quickly it made Kaneki wonder if he wasn't just squatting outside the house.

Kaneki couldn't say he'd be surprised.

"Perhaps we could take a walk?" Tsukiyama suggested. His eyes flickered toward the basement door, and his face was pale and drawn. Kaneki suspected Tsukiyama thought he was walking to his death.

"Maybe tomorrow," Kaneki said, throwing him a bone. Tsukiyama's posture relaxed at that. "Today, we have plans."

Kaneki might not have planned to kill Tsukiyama, but he could stil beat him bloody.

"As you wish," Tsukiyama demurred.

"I'll have something for you to eat when you're done," Hinami offered. With a grin, she added, "It's another one of your recipes," to Tsukiyama, who lit up under Hinami's attention and offered her an exaggeratedly deep bow, his knee resting on the ground, as he took Hinami's hand and kissed it.

"Your taste is as impeccable as your face is beautiful, _mon fifille_!"

Banjou, still stationed on the couch, made a gagging sound.

"Tsukiyama," Kaneki said, catching Tsukiyama's attention once again before opening the basement door and going down the stairs without another backward glance. Tsukiyama's footsteps echoed his own.

Downstairs and out of earshot of anyone else, Tsukiyama cleared his throat. 

"Perhaps we should talk."

Kaneki did not want to talk and communicated that by delivering a swift kick, the heel of his shoe digging into Tsukiyama's stomach, sending him careening backward.

Hop-stepping back, Kaneki dropped into a defensive stance, but Tsukiyama didn't throw an answering attack at him. He just got back up on his feet and even had the gall to look irritated.

"We should talk," Tsukiyama said again, but he kept his guard up, his kagune spiraling around one arm.

"There's nothing to talk about." Why wouldn't Tsukiyama let it go? Kaneki would've been willing to pretend they'd never laid hands on one another. Anything, really, to avoid talking.

"Is that so?" This time, Tsukiyama did attack, his kagune spiking into the ground a split second after Kaneki sprang out of the way.

"It's not any of your business!" Kaneki whirled around Tsukiyama's next attack and jabbed him in the back with his elbow, sweeping Tsukiyama's legs out from under him when the blow made him lose his footing.

"Given the circumstances," Tsukiyama bit out, rolling to his feet, "don't you think I deserve to know?"

Deserve? Kaneki saw red just hearing the word. He was on Tsukiyama in seconds, hands wrapped around Tsukiyama's throat. 

"You think you deserve to know?" Kaneki hissed, incredulity and rage all rolled together. "Is my deformity really something you think you have a right to?"

Tsukiyama's face was red from exertion, his arms and back flexing as he tried to escape, held back by Kaneki's kagune. "Deformity?" he managed to choke out.

He sounded so damned surprised.

Kaneki's grip relaxed, and he stepped away, letting Tsukiyama go slack on the floor. "What did you think it was?"

"I," Tsukiyama paused, refusing to meet Kaneki's eye. "I thought you were a woman."

A cold, familiar anger surged through Kaneki. "I already told you I'm a guy."

"Yes," Tsukiyama agreed, "but you…" He trailed off, biting his lip.

"That--it wasn't my fault," Kaneki found himself saying. "I wasn't born like this. Jason," he paused and swallowed loudly, glancing about as though he expected to see the man standing in the room with them, "he just--tore me apart." Kaneki closed his eyes for a brief moment to gather himself. "Everything grew back wrong." Like Rize, he thought. Everything grew back like it would have for her, but he couldn't bring himself to say that out loud.

Tsukiyama was sitting up on the floor, saying nothing. He wasn't looking at Kaneki, and his face was an unreadable blank.

Finally, "Your body changed?" Tsukiyama guessed. "You've always smelled female."

That rang a bell. Who else had said that to him? Uta, Kaneki remembered. He and Nishio both.

"Guess so," Kaneki replied dully.

"So you've grown female parts," Tsukiyama continued. "How are they?"

Kaneki stared, dumbfounded. "How are--what do you mean?"

"I'm asking if you've tested things out," Tsukiyama said, gesturing at Kaneki's lower half.

Heat rose in Kanaki's cheeks, burning down his neck. "What the hell--"

"You have!" Tsukiyama sounded delighted. He stood up and clapped his hands together. "And what's the verdict?"

Why was Kaneki not killing him? "You're disgusting."

"Au contraire, Kaneki-kun! I am extraordinarily accepting!"

Kaneki was mortified. He didn't even move away when Tsukiyama approached him and put his hands on Kaneki's waist.

"Shall I help you, Kaneki-kun?" Tsukiyama crooned.

Kaneki pretended his voice didn't tremble. "What do you know?"

"In theory, a great deal," Tsukiyama assured him, hands already working to undo Kaneki's pants as he walked Kaneki back against a wall.

"In theory?" Kaneki echoed. His thoughts were scattered, his body heating rapidly under Tsukiyama's touch. That molten pleasure from the night before was back, settling between his legs and sweeping the day's frustration away.

"In theory," Tsukiyama confirmed, dropping to his knees. He eased Kaneki's shorts down, and then gently lifted one of Kaneki's legs to let the material slip off and sit around the other ankle. "You see," Tsukiyama explained, pulling one of Kaneki's legs to rest over his shoulder, "I never got around to sex." He sounded wistful. "I tried, but I tend to be excitable."

Kaneki let his head fall back, cracking against the cold cement wall as Tsukiyama's breath fanned against him. Kaneki felt sopping wet, his hips twitching toward Tsukiyama's mouth, but he just kept talking.

"I accidentally ate all my partners," Tsukiyama continued matter-of-factly. He brought one hand up to spread Kaneki open and leaned in, taking a long, deep breath. "I don't think that will be a problem here."

When Tsukiyama finally put his mouth on Kaneki, Kaneki wanted to cry. He buried one hand in Tsukiyama's hair and braced the other against the wall, letting out slurred, "fuck!"

Tsukiyama actually whimpered, fucking into Kaneki with his tongue in long slow strokes. He slid his thumb up, resting it against the small nub and rubbing it in unrelenting circles. Kaneki's body liquefied, every inch of him convulsing as he came. Tsukiyama didn't let up. As Kaneki felt himself dropping, Tsukiyama pulled back long enough to press a kiss into his thigh and say, "You taste _fantastique_ ," before mouthing his way back to Kaneki's cunt.

Kaneki sank to the ground, Tsukiyama's head between his legs, and decided there was merit in letting him live after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support so far! Cthonical once again tidied this chapter up Any remaining errors are because I goofed..

Banjou and Hinami were talking in the kitchen, something about a character she'd learned from Kaneki earlier. "I don't think that's the right radical," she was saying, a hesitant lilt in her voice. "When nii-chan finishes training--"

Kaneki lost whatever she'd been about to say when Tsukiyama slid a hand down his shorts. 

They'd made it to the basement but hadn't bothered shutting the door at the top of the stairs. Tsukiyama had Kaneki pressed against the wall by the foot of the stairs, face buried against Kaneki's neck and fingers working between his legs.

In all fairness, Kaneki's invitation to Tsukiyama had been for sparring. They'd just gotten off track.

"The door's open," Kaneki said, voice hitching when Tsukiyama's thumb slid over his clit.

Tsukiyama muttered something unintelligible in return, the words lost against Kaneki's skin.

Kaneki reached between them to palm Tsukiyama's cock through his slacks. Tsukiyama had been taking liberties ever since the first time Kaneki let Tsukiyama touch him. More and more, any time they spent together quickly devolved into frantic rutting and groping. After the fact, the frenzied sex (with Tsukiyama, of all people) often left a bad taste in Kaneki's mouth.

During, however, was a completely different story.

Kaneki closed his eyes, his hips stuttering against the inconsistent slide of Tsukiyama's fingers. 

"Your hand." Tsukiyama swallowed audibly, and Kaneki could feel the way Tsukiyama's body tremored against his own. "Don't stop moving it."

Heat blossoming across his face, Kaneki shakily undid Tsukiyama's slacks and pulled his cock out. The angle was awkward, but Kaneki managed to get his hand in just the right position so Tsukiyama could fuck his fist.

Kaneki's legs quaked, his knees close to giving out. Heat gathered low in his stomach--

"Nii-chan? Are you done?" Hinami called from the top of the stairs. "I haven't heard anything in a while."

Kaneki froze, mortified.

Tsukiyama, on the other hand, tensed up, surging forward to sink his teeth into Kaneki's shoulder as he came over Kaneki's fist.

"Almost," Kaneki answered Hinami after a brief moment of incredulity. "We'll be up in a minute."

Tsukiyama was slumped over his shoulder. Kaneki pushed him off and watched him collapse limply on his ass, Tsukiyama’s dick softening and exposed in the v of his open pants.

Kaneki wanted to step on him.

The pleasure he'd felt only moments before translated into bitter frustration, an uncomfortable pressure between his legs that made his skin prickle. Kaneki's hand was striped with come and he could smell the blood on his shoulder from the already mended wound.

Buttoning his shorts, Kaneki crouched down in front of Tsukiyama and grabbed his hair with his clean hand, pulling until Tsukiyama flinched.

"If you ever bite me without permission again," Kaneki said, "I will _eat you alive_. Understand?"

Tsukiyama nodded, but his were glazed over. Kaneki noted with no small amount of disgust that Tsukiyama's dick was twitching from the rough contact.

Shoving his head back, Kaneki stood again and walked to the stairs.

Hinami poked her head out of the kitchen when Kaneki walked off the top of the stairwell, but Kaneki hastily muttered something about washing up and fled to the bathroom. Hinami's senses were superb. If she tried, she'd be able to smell anything they did.

Kaneki washed his hands in the sink three times. He was so fucking stupid.

The shoulder of his shirt was torn and stained with a small patch of blood, but it wasn't bad enough to merit changing. 

Kaneki returned to the kitchen, following the smell of coffee. His already dismal mood swan dived when he saw who else was there.

Tsukiyama leaned against the counter, watching Hinami reviewing kanji with Banjou at the table. When he noticed Kaneki he smiled pleasantly, but the effect was ruined when he raised his hand and covertly sniffed his fingers.

What the _fuck_.

Kaneki stood beside him, reaching for a mug from the cabinet, and mouthed, "Wash your fucking hands," not willing to take the chance of Hinami hearing and asking what they were talking about.

"Non," Tsukiyama said, not bothering to lower his voice. "I plan to savor this as long as I can."

Every time Kaneki thought Tsukiyama couldn't possibly be any more disgusting… 

Turning away, Kaneki poured himself a cup of coffee. He couldn't do anything about it without alerting the others, and Tsukiyama knew it.

Kaneki would have to find a creative way to make him pay for this latest transgression.

xxx

Hinami swung her foot out, the momentum catching her by surprise. Kaneki caught her before she fell.

"Don't force it," Kaneki advised, using his foot to nudge Hinami's back into position. "You don't need to put that much strength into just turning your body."

Tsukiyama watched, leaning against the wall by the foot of the stairs. He'd been delighted by the idea of Hinami learning to fight, more still by the idea of having a hand in teaching her.

"Perhaps we should be focusing on her kagune?" Tsukiyama suggested. "Her physical strength isn't as fearsome as yours, Kaneki-kun. It won't be the placement of her feet that saves her from the doves."

"If I wanted your advice, I would have asked for it," Kaneki snapped back, his hands resting on Hinami's shoulders.

"My family has a rich history of techniques that--"

Kaneki cracked one of his fingers. Tsukiyama's mouth shut with an audible _clack_.

Hinami broke the tension with a laugh, breaking form to cover her mouth. "You two are getting along a lot better now," she said. "I'm glad."

If that was what she considered getting along, then Hinami had some pretty low standards. "We're not," Kaneki denied.

Tsukiyama pushed away from the wall and strolled over to them, dropping one arm casually over Kaneki's shoulder. "Ah, but we are, mademoiselle! Kaneki-kun and I have come to know each other on a deep and spiritual level." He paused. "Biblically, even!"

Kaneki chose that moment to demonstrate a perfectly executed roundhouse kick for Hinami. Tsukiyama went crashing into the wall with a sharp, pained cry. 

Hinami looked conflicted for a moment before breaking out into a wide grin. "Will I be able to do that?"

"Absolutely," Kaneki said. "You can practice on that guy next time, too."

Tsukiyama was becoming overly confident in his interactions with Kaneki. The thought of Tsukiyama letting slip the things they'd done together made Kaneki's skin crawl. It was almost as bad as Banjou or one of the others finding out Kaneki's secret, the shameful truth of his body.

Kaneki moved through the rest of Hinami's lesson on auto. He'd been careless giving in to Tsukiyama's whims. They'd been a good distraction, but was Kaneki's own satisfaction more important than the work he needed to do? 

Obviously not.

When Kaneki ended Hinami's lesson, he'd already resolved to end whatever it was he and Tsukiyama were doing.

"Can we go over the new book Banjou got me?" Hinami asked. Her face was shiny with sweat, and her bangs were plastered to her forehead. She looked exhausted and happy, and the sight of her brought a smile to Kaneki's face.

"Sorry," Kaneki said, "but I'll actually be going with Tsukiyama after this." Tsukiyama, who had been sitting by the stairs sulking, perked up. "You should wash up and relax. We'll study tomorrow morning. Make sure Banjou hasn't slacked off."

"I'll keep him in line," Hinami promised solemnly.

xxx

"Not that I'm complaining," Tsukiyama began as soon as they were out of the house, "but is there a reason you're coming with me? You always refused before."

"I thought we should talk," Kaneki said. _Privately_. 

Tsukiyama looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Is that what we're calling it?"

Kaneki hated the way his face flushed so obviously. "Shut up," he bit out.

Tsukiyama's current residence was a small condo several blocks away from the safehouse - another family property, according to him. Tsukiyama seemed to have them everywhere. Kaneki had seen the building before in passing, but he'd never actually gone inside Tsukiyama's room. The thought of doing so made Kaneki inexplicably nervous, one of many feelings he preferred not to examine.

They took the elevator to the top floor. When the doors opened, they stepped immediately into Tsukiyama's residence. 

"I thought you said it was small!" Kaneki looked incredulously at the large, well-decorated room. "Isn't this a penthouse?"

"A small one," Tsukiyama said, shrugging off his blazer. He hung it on a hook by the elevator doors, then turned and pressed a few buttons. "The lock," Tsukiyama explained.

"Right." Tsukiyama was definitely a typical young master type. Kaneki figured it fit him well.

"So?" Tsukiyama asked, breaking the silence that had fallen on them. 

Kaneki shrugged. "Let's stop this." It was easy to say.

But apparently not so easy to hear. "Stop what?" Tsukiyama asked. "You'll need to be more specific, Kaneki-kun."

"Messing around," Kaneki clarified, unwilling - or perhaps unable - to be any more vulgar about it. "I don't need the distraction." Or the potential fallout. He had a role to play in order to support everyone. Kaneki hated the thought of losing their trust because he wanted whatever mess he and Tsukiyama were in.

"You're breaking up with me?"

"No," Kaneki said, "because we were never together. I'm just saying - you should forget about…" he hesitated, fumbling with his words, and Tsukiyama stepped in.

"Forget that we fucked?" he suggested.

"We never really…" Kaneki trailed off.

Tsukiyama waved a hand. "Semantics! Kaneki-kun, that's all well and good, but why come here?" Tsukiyama looked at him with narrow eyes, his expression otherwise flat. "You could have done this back at the house. Why go anywhere alone with me?"

Kaneki scrambled for an answer and found that he had none. "I thought--" What? Why? Kaneki felt a surge of anger at himself for acting unreasonably and at Tsukiyama for breaking form and pointing it out. He should have accepted it quietly, obediently. 

"Did you want to have one last go?" The bitterness Kaneki had expected finally surfaced in Tsukiyama's voice. 

Kaneki latched on to that idea. "Yes. To…" He swallowed, frowning. To what? Soften the blow?

Whatever reason he might have pieced together, Tsukiyama didn't seem interested in hearing it.

"Fine," Tsukiyama sounded angry, or maybe hurt, though Kaneki found the idea of his rejection causing Tsukiyama emotional pain repulsive, too at odds with the monster Kaneki assumed him to be. "Let me fuck you this time."

Kaneki looked at the floor, nerves twisting his stomach. "This is the last time," he said. "So I'll let you this once." He distanced himself from desire that way. Let Tsukiyama think he didn't want it, that he wasn't starting to get wet from the thought alone.

He let Tsukiyama lead him to the bedroom, affecting an air of indifference. Kaneki refused to react while Tsukiyama stripped out of his clothes, watching from the corner of his eye while he pulled off his own with unsteady hands. When Tsukiyama pressed him onto the bed, neither of them acknowledged the way Kaneki's trembling gave him away.

Tsukiyama kissed him impatiently, his dick already half hard against Kaneki's hip. He kissed the side of Kaneki's face, the line of his jaw, his neck, teeth a barely-there pressure as Tsukiyama slid down Kaneki's body.

He mouthed along Kaneki's stomach, then leaned back, sitting on his knees as pressed Kaneki's thighs apart. "You smell so good," Tsukiyama said dreamily. 

"Shut up," Kaneki groaned, arms covering his face. "I don't need the play by play!"

Tsukiyama laughed, leaning down to nuzzle the inside of Kaneki's thigh. "I suppose you wouldn't," he murmured, though Kaneki didn't understand what he meant. He didn't have time to ask, either, as Tsukiyama licked up the crease between his legs before spreading Kaneki open with his fingers and pressing his tongue inside, groaning obscenely.

Kaneki's skin prickled, electric, and his hips rocked seemingly of their own accord. He craned his neck to watch Tsukiyama's head move enthusiastically between his legs, winding his fingers into Tsukiyama's hair and pulling teasingly.

"You're already so wet," Tsukiyama said, awed. He sucked on his thumb before sliding it against Kaneki’s clit, laughing openly when Kaneki cried out. “What are you going to do without me?”

It was a loaded question, one that Kaneki was thankful not to have to answer as Tsukiyama began fucking him with his tongue in earnest, flicking his clit gently with his thumb at random, keeping Kaneki on the edge, his body shaking, his stomach clenching. Kaneki could feel himself drooling, but he couldn’t get his throat to work well enough to swallow, all of his senses concentrated between his legs. 

“I wanna come,” he slurred, the words tripping off his tongue involuntarily, mirroring the desperate chant running through his thoughts. 

Tsukiyama pulled back, a sharp smile curling across his face. “By all means,” he said, pressing two fingers inside Kaneki. “Come.” He flicked his tongue against Kaneki’s clit before closing his mouth and sucking, fucking his fingers in and out rapidly, keeping the pace to the bruising tempo that never failed to make Kaneki lose control.

Kaneki felt himself begin to pulse around Tsukiyama’s fingers, his hips coming up off the bed, mouth open but unable to make a sound. Tsukiyama didn’t let up and before Kaneki could come down, a second orgasm rushed through him, his body tensing to the point of pain and his vision spotty. By the time Tsukiyama pulled back, Kaneki was whimpering, body stuttering with aftershocks.

Tsukiyama sat back on his knees and licked his lips. “Are you still conscious?”

Panting, Kaneki looked up at him, hoping his expression was as withering as he intended it to be but knowing he probably looked too debauched to be threatening. Tsukiyama’s delighted grin agreed.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Tsukiyama announced. He paused as if waiting for something.

Kaneki sighed, canting his hips upward as though to say _any day now_. That was all the encouragement he was willing to give - and apparently all the encouragement Tsukiyama needed.

His dick was red, the head of it shining and slick. Tsukiyama grabbed himself and squeezed, taking a deep breath. Kaneki could tell by the way he closed his eyes and furrowed his brow that he was close to coming. He’d gotten off just on eating Kaneki out before, had said that Kaneki’s taste was a religious experience. Kaneki thought that just made Tsukiyama insane, though it came as no surprise.

Steadying himself with one hand, Tsukiyama settled himself between Kaneki’s legs, bracing himself by planting his free hand beside Kaneki’s body. He looked almost in pain as he pushed himself inside, sliding home with one clean thrust. Kaneki sucked in a sharp breath, expecting pain yet only feeling a slight stretch, almost like a pinch, but the feeling was blown away by the next roll of Tsukiyama’s hips.

The pressure of having Tsukiyama inside him was pleasant, but nothing near the mindblowing feeling of having Tsukiyama’s mouth on him. Kaneki squeezed Tsukiyama’s sides with his thighs and clutched at Tsukiyama’s upper arms. Tsukiyama panted into Kaneki’s neck, muttering something too low for Kaneki to hear. 

Tsukiyama went rigid, grinding into Kaneki with tiny, wordless sounds, and Kaneki held him steady as he came. There was something _too_ intimate about the way they were locked together that made Kaneki feel like he wanted to cry without understanding why.

They could have stayed like that for a while. Kaneki felt strangely comfortable with it, and the silence between them wasn’t awkward. But then Tsukiyama pulled away, rolling off to the side, and the spell was broken. Something dark settled low in Kaneki’s gut, giving rise to something frightfully close to guilt. 

“I should go,” he found himself saying.

Tsukiyama let out a deep breath and rolled away, facing the wall. “You know where the door is,” he said. “The lock is the house’s address.”

“Right,” Kaneki said, sitting up. “Thanks.” He picked up his clothes, grimacing at the feeling between his legs, a combination of wet and sticky that he chose not to think on too hard. Though Kaneki doubted Tsukiyama would kick him out if he wanted to use the shower, some part of him rebelled at the idea of staying in that room even a second longer. “Goodbye,” he said.

“Au revoir.”

xxx

Kaneki thought Tsukiyama would be difficult, that he'd come crawling and begging, but Tsukiyama did nothing if the sort. In fact, Kaneki didn't see Tsukiyama for nearly two weeks after leaving his bed. He only contacted the group through Banjou, something that both bewildered and irritated Kaneki. He caught one of their conversations, if only the tail end.

"Great," Banjou said, pacing around the kitchen table. "That's, uh, really something." He looked at a loss, his brows furrowed. "Is… is that so? No, I've never played squash." He caught Kaneki's eye and gestured at the phone, mouthing _he's lost his damn mind_.

Kaneki didn't know what to think about that.

When Tsukiyama finally did show up again, he was never alone with Kaneki. They rarely spoke directly.

It was driving Kaneki mad.

Tsukiyama, for all he'd claimed to be obsessed, was just giving up? It was that easy? 

The way things were, it felt less like he'd cut off a sexual relationship and more like they'd actually broken up. The lingering awkwardness made Kaneki want to hide, especially now that his usual punching bag was unavailable. It killed his appetite.

Kaneki didn't know why it should be affecting him, but it did. He was willing to concede that Tsukiyama's easy acceptance of his warped body had made him fond of him to some degree. Kaneki figured breaking it off so suddenly had been a shock to his system. Or maybe he was sexually frustrated? Or, even worse, maybe he was just close to menstruating again, which would explain the cramping and discomfort. He could remember hearing girls complain about it in high school.

Whatever the reason, Kaneki knew he needed to get over it, to refocus. He needed to pour himself into finding Kanou and training Hinami and taking care of his makeshift family.

Everything else was just details.

xxx

Another few weeks and the awkwardness was gone. Kaneki could look Tsukiyama in the eye and not feel that twisting in his gut.

"So you're sure about this?" Kaneki asked, taking the coffee cup from Hinami with a smile. He turned his attention back to Tsukiyama.

"Of course." Tsukiyama looked almost offended at the idea that Kaneki might not believe him. "It is my restaurant, after all, and Madam A has been attending for some time. According to what I've heard, she's acquired two guards. The rumor is that they both wear one-eyed masks, like you."

"That doesn't mean anything," Banjou cut in. "Plenty of masks cover one eye!"

"If you'll allow me to finish? The visible eye has never changed. It always looks human."

"Still," Banjou insisted.

"It's worth a shot," Kaneki said, interrupting the argument. "We haven't had any new leads in weeks. We might as well give it a try." He picked up his mug and took a sip, only to find himself spraying the mouthful across the table.

It felt like he'd tried to drink oil, the taste sickening and bitter, taking him back to his attempts at human food after being modified by Kanou.

For a few beats, no one said anything. Then Banjou wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Everything okay?"

"Was something wrong with the coffee, nii-chan?"

Flustered, Kaneki jumped up to grab some napkins. "Sorry! It just tasted wrong. Did we change brands?"

"We've always bought this brand." Hinami looked worried. "I must have messed it up!"

Banjou reached across the table for Kaneki's cup and took a swig. "Tastes good to me. You getting sick?"

"Can ghouls get sick?" Maybe he was.

Banjou shrugged. "Anyone can get sick. You should lay down."

Tsukiyama said nothing, staring vacantly at Kaneki's cup. His expression made Kaneki uneasy, so he agreed, backing out of the kitchen. "I'll do that," Kaneki said. "Make plans to infiltrate the restaurant. When I wake up--"

"Got it, got it," Banjou said, waving him on. "Go on, we'll take care of things here."

Kaneki left, feeling out of sorts. He'd not been eating enough lately. Maybe he'd made himself sick? Too much stress, perhaps, though the thought made him want to laugh. For someone like him, stress was a given.

Kaneki stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed, certain that after a few hours of sleep, all would be well.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for reading/commenting/leaving kudos/bookmarking/etc... You guys are awesome *u* Cthonical once again kept this fic in line. Any remaining errors are all me.

Kaneki mindlessly nodded at Hinami and Banjou, whatever they might have been saying, but his attention was elsewhere. Tsukiyama stared back at him across the table, eyebrows raised, as though to say _did you want something?_ Kaneki scowled and looked away. No, he didn't want anything, and certainly not from Tsukiyama.

It was just that _smell_.

Out of the blue, Tsukiyama's scent had changed, and Kaneki couldn't ignore it. He smelled like a particularly tasty meal.

"Is that how this one reads?" Hinami's voice caught Kaneki's attention, drawing his eyes to the character she'd marked with her finger.

Kaneki smiled sheepishly. "Say it again?"

Hinami frowned. "I can't learn if you don't listen, nii-chan," she scolded.

"I'm sorry, I'm just--"

"Preoccupied?" Tsukiyama suggested.

Kaneki shrugged. "Tired. It's not a big deal. What was your question?" He turned fully toward Hinami, trying to edge Tsukiyama out of the conversation.

"Tired? Again?" Hinami’s frown deepened. She pushed the book away and turned her attention to Kaneki. "You've been saying that a lot…"

"You were sick last week, too," Banjou added, though the crooked grin on his face suggested it was more out if enjoyment at seeing Hinami motherhen Kaneki than any real concern.

_Traitor_ , Kaneki mouthed across the table at him. Banjou smothered a laugh with a loud cough that drew Hinami's attention.

"Not you, too," Hinami fretted. "You guys need to take better care of yourselves!"

Banjou shrank under her attention. "I'm fine," he said quickly, but Hinami was already on her feet.

"Tsukiyama, will you help me make them something?" she asked, hands pressed together.

"With pleasure," Tsukiyama said, standing and giving her a quick bow.

Kaneki and Banjou were unceremoniously thrown out of the kitchen and told to relax in front of the television, by order of Hinami. Tsukiyama winked at them before he closed the kitchen door behind him.

"That guy's a bad influence on her," Banjou groused.

Kaneki couldn't say he disagreed. "Maybe Hinami will be a good influence?"

Banjou huffed, collapsing onto the sofa. "What about you? You guys were spending a lot of time together a few weeks back."

Kaneki's stomach knotted. "We were just sparring," he said, hoping his voice would keep even and not betray just how much of a lie that was. He was afraid to look at Banjou for fear of giving something disgraceful away. 

"I don't blame you for ditching him." Banjou grabbed the remote and turned the television on to a baseball game. "Tsukiyama's a pain in the ass on his good days." He sighed, scratching the back of his head. "He did tell me a lot about Rize, though." He said it slowly, as though he was reluctant to admit Tsukiyama had done him a favor.

"Did he?" Kaneki replied. He didn't know what else to say, but he sure as hell didn't want to talk about Tsukiyama. 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, broken only by the monotone commentary from the television. Somewhere around the bottom of the sixth inning, just as Kaneki's eyelids began to droop, Hinami opened the kitchen door. The smell of cooking meat wafted out.

"The food's ready," she said.

Banjou jumped up and sniffed the air like a dog, sighing contentedly. "Smells great." 

Kaneki sat frozen on the couch. The smell of cooking meat was so thick in the air it felt smothering. His stomach roiled and he fought to keep his expression neutral. It didn't smell good at _all_.

Banjou was already in the kitchen. Hinami stood in the doorway, watching Kaneki with sharp eyes that reminded him starkly of Touka.

"Sorry," Kaneki said, standing hastily. "Let's eat."

Hinami held the door for him, eyeing him like she thought he might run, which, well. He couldn't say the thought hadn't crossed his mind.

Before he crossed the threshold, Hinami caught his arm. "You look really pale, nii-chan," she murmured, her voice low enough that Tsukiyama and Banjou wouldn't hear.

Kaneki took a deep breath to steady himself, but the kitchen smelled like rot. He smiled and knew it was shaky. "I'm just tired." He'd been _just tired_ for weeks.

Hinami let him pass and sit down, but she kept him close. She chose the seat next to him and left the head of the table, her usual choice, empty.

"You don't have to worry so much," Kaneki said, just above a whisper.

Hinami didn't say anything back. She reached across the table for a skewer and put it on Kaneki's plate. She didn't look away from him.

Maybe he'd skipped one too many meals. Hinami's mind was as sharp as her senses. Whatever conclusion she'd drawn from his recent behavior Kaneki couldn't guess, but he doubted it was good. 

Or that it was anywhere near the truth.

xxx

Kaneki made it through dinner by the skin of his teeth. He'd treated the food as if it were human food, and even after he'd fled to his room he could still feel the meat sitting in his gut. The aftertaste made him want to vomit. Kaneki sat on the edge of his bed and took a few deep breaths to steady himself.

To eat is to live, he reminded himself. No matter the taste, Kaneki knew he had no choice but to bear it. But what was happening to him? His body was a disaster on the outside, so the inside was changing to match? 

Then again, maybe his sensory changes were some kind of psychological regression? If it was all in his head, Kaneki wouldn't complain. That would be better than the alternative - than all of it being _real_.

His stomach gurgled, and Kaneki let out a startled laugh. The food might have been unappetizing, but the small amount he'd been able to choke down was enough to remind his body of how little he'd eaten in the last week, how hungry he really was.

But not for human.

Kaneki found himself trying to recall how Tsukiyama smelled and feeling perverse for it. Tsukiyama was a ghoul, and Kaneki knew full well that eating ghoul meat was like trying to swallow a mouthful of rotten fish.

But for some reason, he couldn't think of a single thing he wanted more.

It was a pity, Kaneki thought as he flopped back on his bed. A few weeks ago Tsukiyama would have jumped at the chance to have Kaneki bite him. He would have turned it into some sordid affair too, deviant that he was. Kaneki could picture the look on Tsukiyama's face as Kaneki took a mouthful off his arm, the way Tsukiyama would shiver, his mouth caught between a pained grimace and something darkly satisfied…

Kaneki groaned and rolled over to bury his face in his sheets. "Great," he muttered. Now he was hungry _and_ aroused.

And worst of all, he had no one to go to - and no one to blame for it but himself.

xxx

The more Kaneki tried not to think about Tsukiyama, the more he found himself doing the exact opposite.

Kaneki thought about him constantly.

Whenever he worked up the nerve to choke down food, he'd pretend he was eating Tsukiyama. Rather than helping, it tended to make whatever he was actually eating less appealing by comparison. Kaneki felt like a mess and, worse still, he was pretty sure Hinami could see straight through him.

She always seemed to be watching him, hovering especially close during meals. Kaneki was afraid to ask what she was so worried about. If she caught him staring back, she would break out a sunny smile and quickly divert his attention. 

Kaneki constantly felt torn between hunger and a general aversion to food, a conflicting state that he forced himself to power through lightheadedly. He moved through the days with only a vague awareness. 

He wasn't surprised when he finally broke down and gave in.

Tsukiyama wasn't at the house. Kaneki casually mentioned to Banjou that he should call Tsukiyama over because he was itching for a good fight. Kaneki felt like he was holding his breath until Tsukiyama actually showed up. He'd cut off their little tryst, after all, so maybe Tsukiyama would feel like he had no real reason to come?

Tsukiyama _didn't_ have a reason to give in to anything Kaneki wanted. That he showed up anyway both baffled and pleased Kaneki.

"We haven't sparred in a while," Tsukiyama said as he followed Kaneki down the stairs to the basement.

"I didn't feel like it until now." Kaneki's voice sounded like it was coming from someone else, from far away. With Tsukiyama so close, Kaneki felt drunk off his scent, hunger gnawing at his gut with an intensity he hadn’t felt in weeks. It was like being a new ghoul again, overwhelmed by the need for flesh.

"I suppose that's fair enough." Tsukiyama sounded indifferent. He left space between them where before he would crowd against Kaneki like an eager dog.

Kaneki didn't like that. He was hungry and tired and had felt off for days - maybe weeks. 

It was frightening how easy it was to close the distance between them and rest his forehead against Tsukiyama's shoulder.

Tsukiyama went rigid for a few seconds. Then he relaxed, resting his hand on the small of Kaneki's back. "This is…unexpected," he said.

Kaneki lifted his head. Words left his mouth before he could stop himself: "You smell so good, Tsukiyama. Let me eat." It didn't sound like something he'd normally say, and Kaneki was startled at how clear his own desperation showed in his words.

Tsukiyama looked equally startled. He blinked several times in rapid succession, opened his mouth, and closed it again. Finally, "You…want to eat me? Kaneki-kun?" He didn't sound like he believed it.

"Yes." There was no point in dancing around things. Kaneki mouthed at Tsukiyama's shoulder through his shirt, trailing up to the bare skin of his neck. "Just a little," he promised.

"A little," Tsukiyama echoed blankly. "Of course." Though a note of uncertainty lingered in his voice, Tsukiyama's hand cupped the back of Kaneki's head, keeping them pressed together as he backed against the wall. Tsukiyama slid down until he was sitting, Kaneki kneeling over him. "Whatever you'd like," he said.

Kaneki took that to heart.

He undid the buttons of Tsukiyama's shirt and pushed it off, throwing it aside. Kaneki grabbed one of Tsukiyama's wrists, lifting his arm so could close his mouth against the smooth underside of Tsukiyama's forearm. Darting a glance at Tsukiyama's face and finding him satisfyingly subdued, Kaneki bit down.

Tsukiyama tasted every bit as good as he smelled.

He barely heard Tsukiyama's muttered _mon dieu_ , too focused on the meat in his mouth, the taste of it, finally feeling satisfied. Kaneki restrained himself to three big bites with no small amount of difficulty, pulling back from the wound he'd created only to lean forward again to lap up the blood.

Tsukiyama was almost whimpering, letting out small, breathy sounds that could have been from pain as easily as from pleasure.

Kaneki managed to pull himself away from Tsukiyama's arm, feeling warm and full and content for the first time in weeks. He would have thanked Tsukiyama, but Kaneki's eyes fell to where Tsukiyama's legs were splayed open, to the obvious bulge in his pants. Kaneki reached out and palmed Tsukiyama's dick through his slacks. "I guess you deserve a reward." Kaneki hoped he sounded indifferent, but he was already feeling hot himself. 

Tsukiyama's mouth went slack, and he pushed out a harsh breath, his hips rising off the ground to meet the pressure of Kaneki's hand. 

It didn't take long for Tsukiyama. Just a few careful rubs and he was coming in his pants with a stifled groan, biting down on his lip. Kaneki watched him practically melt against the wall, his arm still bloody, the healing process just barely underway. He wanted to strip out of his clothes, push Tsukiyama's head between his legs, and come with Tsukiyama's tongue fucking into him. Kaneki was wet just thinking about it.

Tsukiyama gathered himself, reaching out to touch Kaneki's face. "I knew you'd be back."

The spell was broken. Kaneki slapped his hand away and stumbled to his feet. He felt angry at himself for practically begging Tsukiyama to come back and livid at Tsukiyama for pointing it out. But even stronger was the feeling that urged Kaneki nod his head and agree, to say yes, he'd wanted Tsukiyama this whole time and couldn't imagine stopping.

What came out of his mouth was different: "Don't get ahead of yourself. I was hungry, and you always come when I tell you to. If you weren't so pathetic I never would have wasted my time."

Kaneki wanted to swallow his tongue. The words were cold with an underlying sense of embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say them, but it was done. Tsukiyama's face had fallen blank. Kaneki couldn't tell how he felt and, before he could think of anything to say or do, of how to fix this new mess, Tsukiyama was already on his feet and walking up the stairs.

Kaneki watched him leave, knowing he should say something but feeling unable to free his voice from where it was trapped in his chest. 

He stood frozen in the basement, unable to shake the feeling of being truly alone.

xxx

Kaneki had messed up. 

He knew it, felt the guilt to prove it, but he told himself it was for the best. Tsukiyama was not someone he wanted to encourage. Things like affection or sex weren't things Kaneki needed. 

But that didn't stop him from wanting.

He walked up the stairs feeling like his feet were too heavy. He didn't want to talk to anyone. Banjou and Hinami watched him retreat to his bedroom wordlessly. He wondered if they knew how pathetic he was.

Kaneki locked his bedroom door behind him and crawled into bed. He wanted to sleep, but the nagging warmth between his legs wouldn't go away. It was as if his body was still aroused to spite him, to remind him of what he could have had.

Shucking his pants and tossing them onto the floor, Kaneki shoved his hand into his boxers and trailed his finger over his cunt. He was still wet, and touching himself made him shiver, stoking the heat of his arousal.

Tsukiyama would have used his tongue, he thought, rubbing his clit. He would have fucked Kaneki with it until he came, shaking, and then he would have taken out his dick. Kaneki imagined himself straddling Tsukiyama and riding his cock, grinding down and feeling full. Kaneki's body ached for that feeling, and pushing a finger inside his cunt did nothing to alleviate it. He felt like his body was on fire and no matter how he rocked his hips or twisted his fingers, he couldn't get off.

Kaneki swallowed audibly, pulling his fingers free and falling back on the bed, his legs open. He felt frustrated, on the verge of tears. Every time he got close to cumming, he'd hear himself call Tsukiyama pathetic, his own cruel words playing an endless loop in his mind. 

Kaneki was the pathetic one. He'd gone and gotten attached to Tsukiyama, to someone whose sole desire was to eat him. Had he lost his mind?

For a moment, he wondered if he shouldn't just find someone else. If it was just sex, wouldn't that solve everything? But no, Kaneki couldn't imagine exposing his body to anyone. Tsukiyama was depraved, and that was why he'd accepted Kaneki so easily. Anyone else would consider Kaneki's body disgusting.

He'd just have to ignore it. Kaneki could hold onto the memory of Tsukiyama fucking him and hope that it was enough, or else--

Kaneki sat up. 

Maybe, he thought, almost cringing at the turn of his thoughts. If he found a suitable substitute, an inanimate one, he could forget about Tsukiyama. If sex was all Kaneki wanted from him, then taking that out of the equation would surely kill any lingering attachment…

Not quite believing he'd even come up with the idea, Kaneki unfurled his kagune. 

Gingerly, he touched one of the arms, running his fingertip across it and shuddering. He could feel it, both the sensation of touching it and of it being touched.

It didn't feel bad.

Kaneki propped himself up against the headboard, his knees up and legs spread. One tentacle moved between his legs. His nerves almost got the best of him, but Kaneki took a fortifying breath and pressed the tentacle against his slick cunt and felt his body soften for it.

The tentacle slid inside and all the air was forced from Kaneki's lungs. He could feel it, could feel himself being fucked and fucking himself. The sensation was bizarre and undeniably hot.

Kaneki closed his eyes and leaned his head back, fucking the tentacle in and out of his cunt with renewed enthusiasm. He found himself caught in a fantasy, pretending it was Tsukiyama's dick instead, and his stomach clenched, heat spiraling behind his navel.

Biting down on the back of his hand, Kaneki imagined Tsukiyama moving between his legs, pictured the way his eyes would clench and his brow would furrow as he fucked him. 

Kaneki's orgasm caught him off guard, and his kagune fucked him relentlessly through it. By the time he came down from it, tears had pooled in the corners of his eyes. He'd come thinking of Tsukiyama, his name on Kaneki's lips.

So much for finding a distraction.

xxx

Kaneki woke up to excruciating pain. 

His stomach, he thought deliriously, curling up on his side. There was something wrong with his stomach. But as he tried to curl into himself, he found he couldn't, that something was pushing against him.

Kaneki's stomach was bulging out grotesquely, growing larger with every passing second. He threw the sheets off his body and scrambled out of bed, his knees buckling under the weight of the pain.

He tried screaming for help, but whatever was in him was crushing his lungs. He couldn't get enough air to breathe, let alone to yell.

The growth was enormous and writhing, and Kaneki could see something moving, pressing against his skin from the inside like it was trying to find its way out.

"Mom " he wheezed, dragging himself across the floor on his back, desperate to get to the door. "Mom, help--"

No help came. Another wave of pain, sharper and more intense than the last, crashed over him, and through the wall of tears in his eyes and the dark spots blooming in his vision, Kaneki watched his stomach rip open, his guts spilling out as kagune tentacles mangled his body and Rize pulled herself free of the prison of his flesh, naked and bloody like a newborn--

Kaneki woke up.

He sprang violently out of bed and collapsed to the floor, gagging and retching, bile spilling out of his mouth and pooling on the floor beneath him. He vomited until there was nothing left in him but acid and his throat burned like he'd swallowed fire.

Panicked, Kaneki fell back onto his ass and groped blindly at his stomach, finding it flat and unmarked.

"A dream," he whispered shakily. It had been nothing but a dream.

He remembered the last time he'd had such a disturbing dream. Rize had been in that one, too, and she'd--

Kaneki shrank from the memory. He'd had the dream right before he'd started bleeding. He reached a hand into his boxers and touched between his legs, then drew back his hand to examine it. No blood.

Frowning, Kaneki tried to think of what he knew about menstruation. It was supposed to be monthly, wasn't it? When had he…?

Nearly two months ago. If his body had really changed, shouldn't it have happened again? He'd felt ill and tired, so he'd thought it was coming. It never did. Maybe he wouldn't get it again? He certainly didn't want to bleed for days on end.

Unbidden, Kaneki remembered Tsukiyama fucking him. Something knotted in his stomach as he looked at the vomit on the floor and recalled the image of Rize bursting out of his stomach.

Abruptly, Kaneki turned his mind away from that alarming train of thought and stood. He needed to clean everything up. The clock said it wasn't quite six yet.

For the next several hours, Kaneki left himself not even a spare second for his thoughts to drift.

xxx

"Thank you for taking me out, nii-chan!" Hinami held onto Kaneki's hand. She looked beside herself at being able to get out of the house.

"Sorry it's just to a bookstore," Kaneki said sheepishly. 

But Hinami shook her head. "A new book is exactly what I need."

Her simple acceptance made Kaneki feel even guiltier. He hadn't taken Hinami to the bookstore just for her sake. He'd done it mostly for himself. After cleaning everything he could find it had been just after ten in the morning, and Kaneki had been desperate for a distraction.

He wouldn't let himself think about why.

Hinami led the way to a nearby bookstore and cafe, first ordering them both a coffee and then leading Kaneki through the aisles, asking question after question about books Kaneki had read or the use of different characters. 

They wound up getting a small pile of books. Kaneki carried the bag and Hinami led the way to the door. She opened it, then motioned for Kaneki to wait as she let another customer walk in.

It was a woman with a large, rounded belly. She dipped her head in thanks at Hinami as she walked by, her hands resting atop her bump.

Kaneki watched her, frozen. He didn't register that he'd started moving until he was out the door with Hinami shouting after him, her feet slapping against the pavement as she ran. Kaneki couldn't stop or answer her. He had to keep moving, to get away, but Hinami caught him by his wrist and whirled him around, her eyes widening. 

"Your kakugan," she hissed, pulling him into a nearby alley and away from prying eyes. "What are you doing?!

Kaneki's back hit the wall, and he sank down, his vision narrowing and his breath coming too short as he chanted "no, no, no," like a prayer, a plea. It wasn't true. It wasn't possible.

At some point, Hinami knelt by his side and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face against his hair. 

"Don't cry, nii-chan," she begged. "Everything will be okay!"

Kaneki couldn't reply. He lifted his arms and squeezed Hinami closer, his heart beating a panicked rhythm in his chest.


End file.
